Atoms for Peace is a band/side project spearheaded by Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke. Judging by the overlapping personnel and artwork “Amok” shares with Yorke’s solo album “The Eraser,” Atoms for Peace appears to be a continuation of that project.

After Radiohead flirted with mainstream success in the 1990s with “Creep,” they left pop music behind and crafted “O.K. Computer” — one of the greatest achievements of the modern rock era. One reason “O.K.” worked is because key ingredients, such as melody and interesting musical passages, were mixed in with the band’s quirkier tendencies.

Eventually, the things that made “O.K.” such a great listening experience were filtered out of the band’s palette, only to be replaced with a glitchy electronic sound that at times makes Kraftwerk sound like Molly Hatchet.

Yorke’s apocalyptic voice is still intact, and he should be given credit for being able to croon over the roach-scurrying-across-the-floor beats that “Amok” is drenched in. Since this is an experimental side project, the band — which also includes Radiohead producer/Ultraista member Nigel Godrich and the Chili Pepper’s Flea — can be forgiven somewhat for the eschewing of any type of song structure.

They cannot, however, be forgiven for making an album that sounds like a kid with a laptop remixed some old Devo records and got someone to whine over it for 40 minutes.

Occasionally something interesting will cut through the goo, such as the menacing keyboard riff in “Ingenue,” but this is the audio equivalent of digging through a loaded dumpster in the middle of the summer to find a nickel; it’s just not worth the hassle.

It is amazing, however, that someone so awash in fans, critical acclaim and cash is still as miserable as Yorke’s lyrics would have you believe. Thom, sweetheart, even Robert Smith of The Cure lightens up one day a week.

Fans of Radiohead’s post–“O.K.” work will probably ingest “Amok” and enjoy it for the placebo that it is. For everyone else who presumably has any kind of respect for their ears, avoid this mess at all costs.

Classic album: Skydog: The Retrospective (Box Set)

Artist: Duane Allman

Label: Rounder

Rating: 5 stars out of 5

Most people know Duane “Skydog” Allman for his work with the Allman Brothers and Derek and The Dominoes, but that’s only part of his brief but brilliant story.

“Skydog: The Retrospective” is a seven-disc set that chronicles Allman’s entire career, starting with stunning pre-Allman Brothers tracks by The Escorts, The Allman Joys and The 31st of February, followed by samples of his work with The Allman Brothers, Eric Clapton, Herbie Mann, Clarence Carter, Wilson Pickett, Aretha Franklin and Boz Scaggs — just to name a few.

Page 2 of 2 - Factor in this resume with the fact that the man died at the age of 24, and Allman’s potency as a musician comes clearly into focus.

Everyone already knows Duane Allman’s work with the Allman Brothers is some of the greatest ever committed to tape, and his heroic save of the doomed “Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs” sessions is also well documented. While it would be impossible to create an overview of Allman’s work without including the aforementioned recordings, it’s the lesser known studio work presented here that is the most revelatory.

In the late 1960s, it wasn’t uncommon for a popular artist to record a cover version of a song that was a recent hit for someone else. The inclusion of Clarence Carter’s version of The Doors’ “Light My Fire” is a curiosity, but Wilson Pickett’s soulful take on The Beatles’ “Hey Jude” is the perfect emotional starting point for a soulful Duane Allman guitar workout. Allman’s stinging guitar work on Pickett’s “Toe Hold” is nearly as incendiary as some of his work with the Allman Brothers.

Allman’s slide guitar work on Aretha Franklin’s version of “The Weight” is fluid, lyrical and downright stunning. While it’s tough to create anything original within the framework of the blues, Allman’s solo on the slow burning “Loan Me a Dime” by Boz Scaggs should be fired into space to let the aliens know mankind is capable of great things.

Allman’s subtle playing underscores a haunting “Beads of Sweat” by Laura Nyro, and his jazz chops are allowed to flourish on '”Push Push” (Herbie Mann) and “Dreams” (Allman Brothers).

There’s not enough room here to properly cover a seven-disc collection, as the examples given above merely scratch the surface of what Duane Allman achieved and what “Skydog” encompasses.

Jon Dawson’s album reviews appear every Thursday in The Free Press. Contact Jon at 252-559-1092 or jon.dawson@kinston.com. Purchase books, music and empty Tic-Tac dispensers at jondawson.com.